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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25497649">Repeat the Race to the Star</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authumnder/pseuds/Authumnder'>Authumnder</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:01:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,088</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25497649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authumnder/pseuds/Authumnder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Listen, u impossible git, </em>Simon’s next text says, because he has no self-control whatsoever, <em>you can’t just go on national television telling ppl I’m the worst date ever then go not replying my mssgs! I want another chance I very well deserved! </em></p><p>Then, because he’s screwed up enough, and also because he’s not above begging when it’s needed: <em>Go on a date with me? I promise it won’t be another disastrous night. Please? </em></p><p><em>People would think you’re crazy in love with me if they see this conversation, </em>Baz replies, surprisingly quickly. <em>Does this date take place in McDonald’s?</em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>147</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Golden Days: a Simon Snow Series zine</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Repeat the Race to the Star</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Here, have some Chef Simon because I love Chef!Simon.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Like so many unfortunate things in Simon’s life, it begins with Penny.</p><p>Alright, that’s maybe a little unfair if not downright mean, but it’s close to the truth, and even Penny agrees to that statement, adding that sometimes she ‘doesn’t think things through’, completely honestly.</p><p>“But you can’t blame me 100%,” she points out. “Because you followed me. Also, don’t even front, your life would be super boring if it weren’t for my bad plans.”</p><p>That’s also true, so Simon shuts his mouth pretty quick.</p><p>This time, the thing starts with a phone call, and then the telly, and then one particular ‘find out what your local millionaire’s up to’ talk show—which Simon finds extremely boring and doesn’t deserve the busy afternoon airtime—and then one lackadaisical filler question, though the response to that was annoyingly controversial, judging from the laughter and clapping that filled the studio right after.</p><p>Simon’s maybe a little butthurt.</p><p>“<em>A lot </em>butthurt,” Penny corrects, and then, when she sees the dark look on his face, “Sorry.”</p><p>“Not your fault he’s an arsehole,” Simon fumes. “It’s been what, 9 years? And he hasn’t let it go? He probably doesn’t go on dates a lot, that’s why his worst fucking date takes place when he was fucking eighteen,”</p><p>“I arranged that date, so,” Penny says calmly.</p><p>Simon turns to her so quickly that he’s surprised he didn’t pull a muscle. “Do you want me to get mad at you instead?” he says.</p><p>“Of course not,” she says, placating. “Wow, this plan backfired fast. I thought you’d find this funny, that’s why I told you about the interview.”</p><p>He absolutely would, if Baz Pitch’s fucking answer to ‘tell me about your worst date’ question wasn’t basically ‘that one date I went on with Simon Snow that ended with me running away and him paying damages to fucking McDonalds’, but that’s exactly what his answer is, or at least the better worded, excluding-all-the-cursing one.</p><p>Simon’s livid, and he thinks he deserves to be.</p><p>He almost can’t believe this. It’s been nine years, he’s pretty sure you don’t get to feel this strongly about someone you haven’t been in contact with since nine fucking years ago, but who’s he kidding, it’s Baz Pitch, of course that asshat manages to get under his skin without too much effort on his part.</p><p>“I am not letting this go,” Simon says after a few more minutes of seething. “I’m no longer the stupid klutz I was in high school, I’m head chef of a famous restaurant that I co-own, I’ve gone past the dark days—”</p><p>“Simon, you tripped over your own feet and managed to pour brownie batter you were making all over the counter just last night, I’m not sure about ‘no longer the stupid klutz’ part,” Penny very, very unneededly supplies, which gets her a murderous glare in return. She throws her hands up. “Definitely more successful and handsome, though.”</p><p>Simon rolls his eyes, but not meanly, because, again, she is telling the truth. It’s possible that Simon could never get rid of the clumsiness from his pubescent teenager years. At this point it’s probably as big a part of him as his love for desserts.</p><p>“I’m getting revenge,” he promises, solemn and meaning every single word. If this were a movie, there’d be some zooming in and out going on, all suspenseful background music. As it is, the only sound following his statement is an ugly snort from Penny.</p><p>*</p><p>Here’s Simon’s thought process regarding the plan.</p><ol>
<li>Get Baz Pitch’s personal phone number (office number is also acceptable, Simon’s not picky, or email. Rather that than nothing at all).</li>
<li>Arrange a date with him at The Chopping Star (it <em>has </em>to be there, somewhere else will do no good for Simon’s scheme to show off a little).</li>
<li>Get the best table at the restaurant for their ‘date’ (yes, Penny, Simon’ll have to cancel actual reservations to make this happen, but whatever, he’ll give his best to make sure he could direct a look that says, ‘Still think I am your worst date, huh?’ at Baz by the end of it).</li>
<li>Ensure that Baz’s having a good time the entire meal and maybe brag a little about his cooking, because Simon’s cooking is great, and his restaurant, because The Chopping Star’s also great, and then his desserts, because Simon’s desserts are the greatest.</li>
<li>All steps above, if going as preferred, will bump Simon from ‘worst date’ to possibly ‘best date’. And he’s sure it’s the only direction this is going; Baz might be loaded and hot as fuck (yes, Simon just said that, Penny, Simon has working eyes), but he’s also the biggest arsehole Simon knows (and that’s including that one balding man who threw up on Simon’s roasted butternut squash soup because ‘it tasted like shit,’ and then proceeded to give The Chopping Star a lone star and a bad review on Yelp, all because he didn’t want to pay for the steak he’d finished before the soup). Simon doubts someone’s treated Baz Pitch better than Simon’s going to, all sweet and romantic and kind. No one without a death wish would voluntarily get close to him, Simon’s sure.</li>
</ol><p> </p><p>“And then what?” Penny asks.</p><p>Simon stops going through the plan. “Then what, what?”</p><p>“After the date,” Penny rolls her eyes. “Then what?”</p><p>That’s a stupid question. “Then nothing,” Simon says. “After I prove to him that I’m capable of being the best date he’s ever had, we go our separate ways.”</p><p>“All these... efforts—and just for that?”</p><p>It’s not just for <em>that</em>, it’s important and it has to be done. No way in hell Simon’s going to be someone’s worst date—that’s unacceptable. Plus, the date might be the best chance for Simon to rub it in Baz Pitch’s cocky face just how much better and like, successful Simon is now. Also maybe more attractive. Simon’s hair is still as unruly as it was in high school, but he’s grown into his features, and he’s so much more confident with his appearance.</p><p>Penny only looks at him like he’s nuts.</p><p>*</p><p>As it is, the plan turns out to be not so foolproof, even after everything.</p><p>“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t be giving you Mr. Pitch’s personal number or email. I can, however, take a message for him if it’s important for you to reach him,” says Baz’s PA, introduced as Martha. “Or you could give us another call later.”</p><p>Right. Apparently Baz’s important enough for the company he works at that he’s got his own personal assistant—how this didn’t even cross Simon’s mind before is honestly kind of embarrassing. Simon’s not giving up, though, nope, not so fast.</p><p>“My name’s Simon Snow,” he iterates carefully. “You know, uh, The Chopping Star? It’s a restaurant in New Burlington—”</p><p>“Is this a spam call? Sir, we don’t have time for—”</p><p>“No, please don’t hang up!” Simon hurriedly cuts. “Okay, listen to me...”</p><p>So that’s how he’s pulling another booked table free at the restaurant, ignoring the look of bewilderment on Shepard’s face when he’s trying to explain why he’s abusing his co-owner status so much.</p><p>“Simon, I don’t actually care,” Shepard says, looking like he actually doesn’t, which...understandable. Meanwhile Penny squints her manic eyes at him and says, matter-of-factly, “You’re bribing Baz’s secretary for his number.”</p><p>Simon tries his best to not look like a child with his hand inside the forbidden cookie jar. “Well...”</p><p>Anyway. He’s got Baz’s phone number in his hands now, it’s entirely up to him when to execute the attack. Unfortunately, Baz’s still the hard-ass Simon knew he was nine years ago, which means Simon’s introductory text goes unanswered. As does the second. And the third.</p><p><em>Listen, u impossible git, </em>Simon’s next text says, because he has no self-control whatsoever, <em>you can’t just go on national television telling ppl I’m the worst date ever then go not replying my mssgs! I want another chance I very well deserved! </em></p><p>Five minutes later the screen of Simon’s phone reads, <em>I don’t happen to go on a date with someone who can’t take obvious hints. Also: answer’s no. </em></p><p>Simon sends back a picture of his middle finger, then immediately panics because that’s <em>so not on the plan</em>!</p><p><em>I’m very sorry abt that, </em>he backpedals, adding a sullen emoji to fish for sympathy (though he’s not sure Baz’s capable of it). Then, because he’s screwed up enough, and also because he’s not above begging when it’s needed: <em>Go on a date with me? I promise it won’t be another disastrous night. Please? </em></p><p><em>People would think you’re crazy in love with me if they see this conversation, </em>Baz replies, surprisingly quickly. <em>Does this date take place in McDonald’s?</em></p><p>Simon holds back the urge to send another crude picture, or at least a ‘fuck you’. <em>We both know I chose McDonald’s back then bc it’s the closest to the school. And bc curfew, </em>he sends instead. <em>So, verdict? </em></p><p><em>I can only do Friday night, </em>Baz says.</p><p>That’s not ideal at all, bloody hell. The restaurant’ll be crowded and Simon’s totally going to be needed a lot in the kitchen. Mark, their chef, would absolutely resent the hell out of Simon for neglecting his duties. Simon can already picture the hardened crazy eyes staring daggers at him.</p><p>Oof, much to look forward to.</p><p><em>Yes. Friday night works, </em>Simon agrees, because of course he does. <em>I’ll send you the details. </em></p><p>*</p><p>Simon thought he has his life together. He genuinely did—that’s the worst part, probably, and the most embarrassing. If Penny were here she’d disagree and snarkily remind him of all the stupid shit he’s gotten up to this month only and how so ‘not grown-up’ he is, actually. But like, aside from that, his life is, pretty much, <em>together</em>. You know, in the way that he’s not sad or suffering or... wanting something he can’t have. Whatever.</p><p>Seeing Baz Pitch on the telly apparently isn’t the same as having his face smack-dab in front of Simon—real and breathing and still conceited as fuck—the effect quadrupled, because one second after Simon’s got Baz in his periphery, his heart lodges itself in his throat.</p><p>Baz raises an eyebrow, as if he doesn’t know what his snotty face does to Simon’s being. Honestly, fuck him.</p><p>“I’ve been told that this place’s awesome,” Baz says, sounding so mighty that has Simon sitting straighter on his seat. “By my PA, who I recall didn’t have enough power to get a table without a reservation first.”</p><p>“Well,” Simon starts, and then trails off. Yup, doesn’t have an answer for that one. “I was being generous?”</p><p>Baz stares at him, how he conveys so much condescension in a look, Simon doesn’t know. “Sure, Snow. Sure.” He says, picking up the menu. “What’d you suggest?”</p><p>That, Simon’s great at. The next five minutes or so he babbles about main courses and side dishes, listing the ingredients used in each cuisines and their health benefit, excitedly asks Baz how he likes his food and then going off at it some more when he finds out Baz likes his meals mild spicy.</p><p>After two steaks, several sides, and a bottle of the most expensive red wine in the selection, it’s time for the revelation. True they haven’t decided on desserts yet, but it’s been an hour and half, surely Baz’s had more than enough material to process from.</p><p>Simon slots the question right after Baz’s put down his glass, not even trying to be subtle about it. “Okay, so where do I rank now?”</p><p>Baz looks up. “Pardon?”</p><p>For an arse, Baz is disgustingly polite. Simon maybe hates him a little bit more for it. “You know,” he starts, gesturing wildly with his hands. “I was, like, worst date, but now, where am I?”</p><p>Baz peers at him for a long moment, like he’s not sure whether Simon’s joking or not. Simon’s not, though, he’s asking a legit question. Baz must’ve realised that, too, because he exhales long-sufferingly and says, “Second worst date.”</p><p>Simon’s jaw is on the floor, he’s sure. “<em>Second worst date?</em>”</p><p>“Second worst date,” Baz repeats valiantly. “Tops.”</p><p>Simon’s pretty sure he’s having a mental breakdown. Also: jaw’s still on the floor.</p><p>“Oh, c’mon,” Baz says, leaning back on his chair. “You didn’t actually expect me to give you better than that, right?”</p><p>“<em>Second worst date</em>,” Simon only mumbles. At this point his jaw’s one with the floor. “<em>Second worst date</em>.”</p><p>Baz rolls his eyes. “You deserted me to go to the kitchen twice, Snow. Each took more than ten minutes. And when you’re actually in front of me you talked non-stop about meals and what’s in them. As if all those food talks aren’t enough, you also only asked me questions about, wait for it, <em>more food</em>.” He says in a deadpan tone. “This is just <em>slightly </em>better than that catastrophe in McDonald’s.”</p><p>Simon doesn’t say, ‘You should be grateful I didn’t trip over my feet and run into a waitress with a full tray tonight.’</p><p>“It’s the busiest night for the restaurant and I’m head chef! I was <em>needed </em>in the kitchen both times!” Simon retaliates instead, all defensive and butthurt. So much butthurt. “Also like, what was I supposed to talk about? It’s not like you initiated any of those conversations.”</p><p>“Did you or did you not give me a chance to talk? If I remember correctly, you didn’t stop talking <em>at all tonight</em>.”</p><p>Okay, that—fuck. Maybe Baz isn’t being a jerk and Simon’s just <em>really </em>messed up tonight. Fuck.</p><p>“I want a do-over.” He says, determined. He <em>cannot </em>be Baz fucking Pitch’s <em>second worst date</em>, what the hell.</p><p>Baz looks at him like ‘are you fucking serious?’ before sighing long-sufferingly. “You know what—be my guest.”</p><p>*</p><p>Here’s how the do-overs (yes, plural) pan out at the end.</p><p>First one’s wine-tasting—because ‘of course it’s wine-tasting,’ as Baz snottily says, after he’s found out about the plan, ‘I bet you had to Google <em>first date ideas </em>to plan this.’</p><p>He’s not actually wrong, so Simon’s keeping his mouth shut. It was a bad idea, though, Simon’s finding out the hard way, when they happen to meet a straight couple at the vineyard and the woman keeps cooing about how cute they are and asking borderline privacy-violating questions. By the end of it Baz looks so visibly wired and there’s <em>no way in hell</em> Simon’s getting named best date after that clusterfuck.</p><p>“<em>That </em>was definitely worse than the one in McDonald’s.” Baz says as they walk super-quickly to their cars to avoid bumping into the couple again, shuddering. “I didn’t know it was possible to top that mess.”</p><p>“<em>Hey</em>,” Simon protests, but only half-heartedly because like, it’s true. “Wait, are we even allowed to drive? How much alcohol have we had?”</p><p>Baz’s rogue <em>fuck</em> is answer enough.</p><p>The second’s drive-in movie theater—or, as Baz’s eloquently put it, ‘another textbook first date—do you have a list of super cliche date ideas?’</p><p>Baz was obviously joking when he asked, but Simon totally does. He’ll bring that list to the grave, though.</p><p>This one’s better, definitely, Simon prepared for the date, bringing snacks and soft drinks and bug sprays along (in case it gets too stuffy in the car and they decide to pull down the windows or something), has made sure the movie’s to Baz’s liking. Baz’s comfortable, Simon can see, maybe <em>too comfortable</em>, because twenty-five minutes into the movie he falls asleep, sagging in his seat.</p><p>(In Baz’s defence, he’s just gotten out of the office when Simon picked him up.)</p><p>“I’d say this was a good date,” Baz says, his yawn overtaking his smirk. “In the way I came out of it very well-rested.”</p><p>Good isn’t great, though, and Simon won’t settle for just that. So, another date it is. Except Baz can’t make it to the breakfast date (“Yes, very extraordinary, Snow.”), calling Simon the night before to tell him he’s going down with flu, can barely move from his bed let alone leave his house.</p><p>“Send me your address,” Simon tells him.</p><p>“What, gonna murder me when I’m down?” Baz sasses, but he texts Simon the name of his apartment right away.</p><p>Simon comes over with a bag full of Kleenex, medicines, and groceries, barging into the kitchen while Baz mumbles some shit about ‘home invasion’. The chicken soup’s done within twenty-minutes, brought over to the couch still steaming, and judging from Baz’s delighted expression it’s completely to his taste.</p><p>“This might be the best idea on your cliche list,” Baz says so much later, complete with a sleepy smile caused by the flu medicine Simon’s forced him to take. For once he actually looks relaxed, unpolished.</p><p>“Well, this isn’t a date.” Simon replies.</p><p>“It isn’t?” Baz looks at him. “Too bad, then, considering this ranked highest amongst the other dates.”</p><p>“Alright, fine, then this is a date.” Simon backpedals, face getting hotter when Baz throws his head back and laughs at that. It’s a pretty sight, okay? Don’t blame Simon. Then, because Simon is <em>Simon</em>’s worst enemy, he says, “Penny thinks I’m stealth-dating you.”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“Like—we went on <em>dates</em>. And we text constantly. And I call you whenever I want and you always pick up, even though you said you’re not going to.” Simon says lowly.</p><p>“<em>Many </em>dates and texts and calls,” Baz says.</p><p>“Exactly.” Simon feels weird, suddenly. “I guess we don’t have to anymore, since with this one I’ve managed to be <em>not </em>your worst date. But I don’t—actually want to... stop, you know?”</p><p><em>Oh. </em>Simon didn’t even know that feeling existed before, can just imagine Penny’s cocky smile when she finds out she was right all along.</p><p>“I won’t stop if you don’t.” Baz says, kind of inaudibly, but they’re sitting so close to each other it’s impossible to miss that. Then he exhales heavily. “You annoy the hell out of me but for some reason you also—<em>amaze </em>me.”</p><p>Next thing Simon knows he’s kissing Baz, using his weight to pin him down. It’s hurried and sloppy, but it’s like—the closest to heaven Simon’s ever felt, no matter how gross that sounds.</p><p>Baz pulls away. “I’m contagious,”</p><p>“Don’t care,” Simon says, leaning into him again.</p><p>Baz lets out a breathy laugh. “You’ll get sick.”</p><p>“Maybe I need a vacation,” Simon says, capturing Baz’s mouth again, and this time there’s no resistance.</p><p>It’s a fucking great kiss, too.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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